Chapter 17 - James Wilson
The days passed.
Cuddy and House got along really well. At first Wilson could hardly believe it, after all, he had expected that they would be mutually hostile. But that had apparently never happened and if one could believe House's statements on the evenings, they sympathized wonderfully with each other.
Wilson allowed his friend this break from all the stress and he also slept better since Cuddy's return, probably because he now knew that House had someone else to rely on.
He hadn't interfered much in the affairs of the two. While he knew House had regained some memories of the time of their relationship, he didn't ask what they were talking about or how they spent their time. It was none of his business, it was their private matter. Though he was secretly worried about how it was going between them. He had noticed that they were getting closer to each other. Of course, doubts haunted him. It didn't work out back then, it wouldn't work out this time in the long run either. But it was not Wilson's right to interfere.
There was a soft knock on his office door. Shortly after his answer, the wooden door opened and Cuddy stepped inside. She looked worried.
"Can we talk?" Her voice was low and a sad, almost defeated undertone resonated with her words.
Irritated and immediately unsettled, Wilson nodded, straightened a chair for his former superior and then sat down in his chair behind the desk.
"What's wrong?" he asked. His doubts fought to the surface. Had he weighed himself in a false sense of security? Wasn't everything as peaceful as it appeared?
Cuddy's dark eyes gazed thoughtfully and absently into his before explaining why she had come.
"I've been thinking," she began hesitantly. Wilson swallowed. Her voice sounded terribly serious and robbed him of the last of his good mood. Had she changed her mind? Did she want to leave again?
"I think I can't help you with your plan," she said after a heavy sigh. Her words sounded deliberate and her voice was firm. Without a doubt, she had figured out what to say before she came.
Wilson sighed in disappointment. He had been so sure that everything would be fine now that Cuddy was there. The news that she was disembarking took any wind out of his sails and left him perplexed. What should he do now? And how should he explain it to House? He had grown fond of her in the few days. How could Cuddy leave him again after giving him hope?
"I see," he forced himself cautiously over his lips. Even when he felt anger, he suppressed it and tried to get an understanding look. "You want to go back home, don't you?"
For a moment they both held each other's gaze in silence. Wilson tried to read something on Cuddy's features. To his amazement, he did not find what he expected. He did not see what could cause her to withdraw from the situation that was actually good for her. Instead, a determined expression graced her face. Only an attentive observer like Wilson could see the pained glimmer in her eyes.
"That's not it," she replied firmly. "But I think what you're trying to do is wrong."
Wilson couldn't believe his ears. He opened his mouth to say something but didn't really know what to say. For an endless number of heartbeats, no sound came out of him.
"I beg your pardon?" It was the only thing that he managed to get over his lips.
Cuddy took a deep breath.
"It is noble of you that you want to help him get his memories back," she began in a calm voice. "But it's not right. You shouldn't do that because it doesn't help him."
Time seemed to stand still for a moment as her words faded. A thunderstorm of fighting emotions broke down over Wilson. Indignation, anger, confusion and also a touch of despair wrestled in him for supremacy. How could Cuddy say such a thing?
"I don't understand..." he stammered, perplexed. He was not yet able to adequately express his feelings, he was taken by surprise by her words. Possibly he still resisted it, did not want to admit what her words meant. At the same time, all the muscles in his body involuntarily tensed. He wasn't sure yet whether he had correctly understood what Cuddy was trying to say to him.
"It's not for his best as you think," she continued. Now Wilson finally found his voice again.
"How can you say that?" he snapped indignantly. "You know as as well as I do, how much he wants to remember! "
It annoyed him to see how unimpressed Cuddy was with his words. How calmly she still looked at him, so convinced of her point of view.
"He wants that," she confirmed with a slow nod. "But don't you see that he's happy? Happy as he's barely ever been? "
His brow furrowed, Wilson still didn't know what Cuddy was getting at. Annoyed and incomprehensible, he looked at her, stared into her eyes for an explanation, an answer that wasn't what he thought it was.
Cuddy got up. She just turned away and took a few steps towards the door.
"I will stay. But I will not help you. He's happy because he can start over. You have to see that. "
With a jerk Wilson stood bolt upright, walked around the table and stopped two paces away from Cuddy. Anger fought its way to the surface.
"That's not your decision."
Cuddy turned to him and looked at him for a long time.
"You are his best friend. Isn't it in your best interest that he can be happy?"
Wilson wrinkled his nose in disgust. She couldn't be serious. Didn't she see the terrible mistake she was about to make?
"It's in my best interest to help him do what he wants," he replied irritably.
"Even if it's a mistake?"
Wilson shook his head, uncomprehending. He had once thought he was doing House a favor by keeping quiet. He had taken out the right to choose what his friend should remember and it had almost cost him his trust. Cuddy was about to repeat his mistake, and to an even greater extent.
"It's not a mistake," he repeated, forcing himself to be calm. "What you want to do is a mistake."
Cuddy's eyes were sad but still determined.
"I have his best on my mind," she replied. Wilson snorted.
"You think I don't?"
Cuddy looked at him in silence for a moment.
"You're doing what you don't have to justify to him later. You're doing his will to save your own ass." Her words were shockingly harsh and made Wilson flinch. He was hurt for a moment, but the disappointment of her response was drowned by a surge of anger.
"And you do what gives you the chance of trying again. You think, as it is now, your relationship could still work. It's selfish." Although Cuddy's eyes communicated sadness and pain, Wilsons couldn't feel sorry for her at that moment. Several times he had to take deep breaths to calm himself down. "You're making the same mistake Stacy made back then. Remember, their marriage failed because she made his choices."
Cuddy glared at him defiantly. "She did what was right for him," she protested in a raised voice.
"And yet it ruined their relationship." With a penetrating look, he tried to appeal to Cuddy's reason. "If he finds out what you're up to, your relationship will fail again. He won't forgive you any more than he ever forgave Stacy. "
Cuddy turned and walked to the door.
"I know," she replied mildly. "So... which one of us is selfish?"
Then she left him alone.
The day was drawing to a close. Wilson closed the door behind his last patient. Sighing, he let himself fall back into his chair, slumped in it and - as so often on this day - stared at the ceiling.
He felt miserable. He hadn't been able to concentrate properly on his work since the argument with Cuddy, because his mind had rushed to House throughout the afternoon.
He didn't know what to do. He had tried to talk Cuddy out of her plan, but it hadn't worked. She was absolutely convinced that she was doing the right thing.
Somewhere in his heart, Wilson could understand her. After all, he himself had thought of helping House by taking control of his memories. But he'd learned that wasn't the way to go.
But his understanding of her wasn't enough to curb the anger he felt when he imagined her lying to him from head to toe. He thought it was selfish to deny his will just so their relationship could get a second chance. In the short term it might mean happiness for both of them. But in the long run - Wilson was sure - their relationship would fall apart, as it had happened before.
Frustrated, he pulled his hair and stood up. He had promised House that he would always be by his side. He couldn't let Cuddy break his heart one more time. Even if it hurt Wilson to rob him of the little joy he was currently having. If he didn't do it now, the end would be worse.
Grabbed by sudden determination, Wilson left his office, turned the corner to the left, and headed straight for House's office at a quick pace. He would tell him. He had to tell him. To protect him.
Wilson was already thinking of a few words to begin with. He was having a hard time even imagining how House would react if he told him that Cuddy was going to lie to him. That she might have already lied to him.
But it didn't come to that. It might never come to that. Wilson stopped short a few steps from House's office and stared through the glass door. At that moment he knew that he couldn't tell him anything, as much as he wanted to, because he was frozen to ice. His heart ached at the sight of House and Cuddy standing so horribly peaceful together, lost in a gentle kiss.
His determination, anger, and despair vanished into nothing. Instead, a void fell over him, making his heart heavy. As if in a trance, he took a few steps back. He suddenly felt powerless, tired and drained. He felt like he had lost.
He should have been happy for his best friend. He should have given him this moment. But he did not. Everything in him was reluctant to accept what had happened.
Defeated, he leaned against a wall at a greater distance from the office, while he could not take his eyes off the scene. He winced, not noticing a figure appear next to him.
"Are you okay?" Chase had joined him and was frowning at Wilson. Wilson returned his gaze indecisively. Then he nodded over to House's office.
"What do you think of that?" he wanted to know from the young Australian. Chase followed his gaze and they both watched House and Cuddy for a while in silence.
Their kiss had now ended, but they were still very close. A certain harmony emanated from the small room, but it did not bring Wilson any peace.
"It's nice for him," Chase replied slowly, turning his questioning gaze back to Wilson. "Aren't you happy that he's feeling better?"
Wilson sighed heavily and looked away, staring at the floor. No, he felt no joy.